Jillian Weise


•   January 29 2016 // poetry   •

A new poem


 
 
Variants of Unknown Significance
 
 
The stalker is standing by my car.
We’re near a ravine in Raleigh
and something else out of place.

All my friends are pregnant.
He is standing there because lost.
Because looking for my office.

Direct police to the crime scene.
The baby came and then no more
going to shows in Raleigh.

The stalker is white, married
middle age, middle class.
That’s my car. That’s the guy.

And in the middle of the song,
Lark’s husband kissed my ear.
I don’t want to do homicide.

Be in it. I buy a yellow whistle,
melatonin and a shirt that reads
Please don’t hurt me.

Someone here is lying.
Lying in wait.

 

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Jillian Weise’s books include The Amputee’s Guide to Sex, The Colony and The Book of Goodbyes. She teaches at Clemson University.